


A Hill to Die On

by Covenmouse



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: (which may not be very reassuring idk), Aged-Up Character(s), Angst, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn, i warned for violence but nothing that isn't canon-compliant, if you enjoy rustic survival and home building this is probably gonna be up your ally
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25135336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Covenmouse/pseuds/Covenmouse
Summary: Two years after the events surrounding the Chimera Ants and Gon’s miraculous recovery, Killua and Alluka are out living life to the fullest while Gon has confined himself to Whale Island for a period of “down time” while he finishes his education. What Gon hasn’t told Killua is that there’s another, larger reason why he hasn’t left the island: Gon has lost the ability to control his nen. Fearing how his weakness might reflect upon him, and his ability to defend himself and others, Gon has kept Killua at arms length. However, when contact with Killua suddenly stops after a proposed spelunking expedition, Gon realizes that he may have to brave the outside world or risk losing Killua forever.
Relationships: Gon Freecs & Alluka Zoldyck & Killua Zoldyck, Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck
Comments: 54
Kudos: 129





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Quickly, about their ages: I choose to place Killua and Gon at fourteen-ish by the end of the election arc. This makes them sixteen-ish at the start of this fic.

**TO** : gon  
 **FROM** : guess  
 **SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

We hit the coast again a few days ago. I know I said we weren’t planning to come back this way so soon, but Nanika is a bit obsessed. I’m starting to think she’d stay in the water forever if we let her. It’s alright though. The weather’s warm enough to enjoy it. 

You’d love the fishing here. Alluka caught this huge tuna yesterday morning! You should have seen it. We roasted it on the beach and it was _so_ good. It reminded me of camping out on the Island. One day we’re gonna come visit. I swear.

Speaking of visits, Bisky says hi. First time I’ve seen her since the whole New Continent thing. She seemed kinda subdued, which is scary as all hell, but she’s doing alright. Asked a lot about you, so you may wanna watch out. She might be headed your way. 

Anyway, after this I think we’re heading back inland. Heard something about some caves nearby that I wanna check out. Probably gonna get lost in there for a bit, so don’t freak if the next few check-ins are a bit late.

You decided about school yet?

-K

## ==^*(@)*^==

 **TO** : guess  
 **FROM** : gon  
 **SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

YOU GUYS ARE GOING SPELLUNKING? Aw, man, I love caves. You know, we have a few here if you guys wanted to check them out ever. HINT. HINT. HINT. They’re pretty great, I’m just saying. I’m not totally biased or anything. 

So you probably think you don’t need any (and, yeah, YOU probably don’t,) but remember to take equipment for the girls if nothing else. Caves can get weird, and sometimes even if you make it into a small passage it can be way more difficult to get back out the same route. 

I can’t believe you went to visit Bisky before me, though. I thought you two didn’t get along.

-G

## ==^*(@)*^==

 **TO** : gon  
 **FROM** : guess  
 **SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

First of all, it’s “spelunking.” Dude, you have a spellcheck. How are you passing your classes?

Secondly, we didn’t visit Bisky. She visited us. Sorta. 

It was kinda bizarre, actually. We ran into her on our way to the coast, while stopping in this random city for food. One minute we’re ordering at a cafe, and the next there’s this obnoxious little brat dangling from my waist and shouting about how much I’ve grown. I’d say I didn't recognize her, but you know that’d be a lie. It’s so damn creepy how she doesn’t age at all. 

Anyway, Ally tried to punch her. 

Hah, I know, right? I was pretty surprised, too. Not surprised enough to let it happen, but still. I’m proud she tried. She’s been doing really well in her training so far, but I still had doubts about her being able to attack someone for real. I was never sure if I wanted her to be able to or not. Now, I guess it doesn’t matter either way. We’ve just gotta work on sizing up targets, right?

So, I had to introduce them, of course (Alluka and Bisky, I mean. You’re still the only one we’ve told about Nani-chan.) and Bisky told me all about this jewel she’s been tracking down. Some kind of cursed diamond that once belonged to a princess so-and-so. You know the usual tall tale nonsense she spouts. Then again, she’s usually right. 

She invited us along, but Alluka doesn’t have and isn’t ready for the kind of training she’d need to run with someone like Biscuit. Had to pass. Which sucked, cause it sounded fun. Maybe you should call Bisky and see if she wants some help? Might do good to get away from the island for a bit, yeah?

Third of all, really, man, don’t worry. I don’t wanna go into it, but I promise you we aren’t gonna die in a cave. It literally can’t happen. I’m still gonna bring equipment, though, just in case. Like I said, the girls are training but they didn’t get the head start we did. 

You gonna keep avoiding my question or what?

-K

## ==^*(@)*^==

 **TO** : guess  
 **FROM** : gon  
 **SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

Ally????? Punched someone????? You’re sure it wasn’t Nanika? 

-G

## ==^*(@)*^==

 **TO** : guess  
 **FROM** : gon  
 **SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

Are you in the cave?

-G

## ==^*(@)*^==

 **TO** : guess  
 **FROM** : gon  
 **SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

Ok, lemme know when you’re out of the cave.

-G

## ==^*(@)*^==

 **TO** : guess  
 **FROM** : gon  
 **SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

Dude. C’mon. You can’t still be in that cave. Right????

-G

## ==^*(@)*^==

[Ongoing Draft]

 **TO** : guess  
 **FROM** : gon  
 **SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

Alright, fine! I really wasn’t that surprised. I always knew Ally had it in her. She’s your sister, after all. 

And maybe I am avoiding the question, some. 

Aunt Mito really wants me to go to high school or a specialist program. Thing is, the only reason I’d be able to get into one is my Hunter’s license. My grades aren’t mind-blowingly terrible (except in math) but they aren’t great, either. Not even good. I’m not Leorio. I just don’t get all this essay writing and exam stuff. It never seems like it has any real purpose. Not like what we used to do. 

Well, what _I_ used to do. You’re still out there doing it, huh? 

Sorry. I don’t mean to get all weird about it. Just feels wrong to get into a school just because of that, and even more wrong to waste a teacher’s time when I don’t see the use in it all. I like learning things when I have a reason to know them. I do really well in those cases. But school… I’ve just never been interested. 

Thing is, I don’t know what else to do, either. 

Last year I started working as an official member of the parks office that oversees the Island’s nature trails and wildlife. Sorry I didn’t mention it before. Guess I figured you’d think it was lame. 

But it’s been fun! I’ve got to spend even more time out on the island training and taking care of the animals who live here. There’s a lot to do, so it isn’t boring. I make sure people keep clear of foxbear territory during mating season, and occasionally rescue hikers (and cave explorers!) when they get in over their heads. And I’m learning lots I didn’t know about plants and insects and stuff. See? This is the kind of education I can do.

And to be honest, there’s this part of me that’s glad to be doing small things. Things that may not matter to the world at large, but they’re important to the animals and people who live around here. I haven’t felt overwhelmed. Not the way I did before, sometimes. 

Used to be I thrived off those overwhelming moments. But after everything that happened with Kite and the NGL and the ants… 

I’m not a coward. I swear, I’m not. I miss fighting. I miss training with you. I want to go back out there and show the world what I’ve got. 

It’s just there’s something I haven’t told you. Something that makes me think about how Kite died, and how sure we were that we could handle something we weren’t prepared for at all. How selfish I was being that whole time… 

What if I go back out there, and I can’t stand up to the sort of enemies we always seem to find? What if I can’t keep up? What if I’m nowhere near your equal anymore?

Would you still like me? Would you still be my— 

## ~

Gon’s fingers pause upon the keys as he reviews the words he’s typed. They’re true; every last one. A little _too_ true. Though Gon’s instinct has always been to tell the truth, that is one thing he’s loved about this method of communication. With email, Gon has found something he’s never had in the real world: a filter between his mouth and his heart.

And _yet_ , there’s his heart. It’s on the screen in stark black and white, screaming into the void. 

Gon tips his head backward and kicks himself gently away from his desk. He taps one toe against the ground, spinning himself in place as he tries to order his thoughts. 

The final battle against the Chimera Ants is a hazy memory during his waking hours. Most of the time he can only vaguely remember how angry he was. How determined. How lost. 

But then there are the other times. The night times. The hours and days when he dwells on it a little too long. It’s been two years, but even now, every time he really forces himself to think about that final confrontation and the events leading up to his near death, a little spark of that old rage and despair wells up inside of him. It flickers like a coal; half-dead but eager to reignite if only he feeds it a tiny bit more kindling. 

He takes in a deep breath, holds it for a count of fifty, then releases. In that exhalation he imagines all the anguish lingering in his soul drifting out of him and dissipating upon the wind seeping through the open window. It almost works.

Then he lifts one hand and tries to visualize his aura forming around his fingers. His breathing evens out, the world around him reduces to the muted tick, tick, tick of the clock on the wall. One minute passes. Two minutes. Three. 

At five, he gives up. 

His gaze returns to the ceiling, watching a spot above him as he keeps spinning around and around in a direct imitation of the way his thoughts have been circling for months, now. Hell; a year, at least. 

Returning to Whale Island and living like a “normal” kid had been good for him. He couldn’t deny that. For once in his life, Ging had actually been right about something—No, that isn’t fair. The _second_ time in Ging’s life. The first right thing (that Gon knew about) was leaving Gon in Mito’s care in the first place. 

“You told me you were ready to throw it all away,” Ging had told him when Gon asked about his newfound lack of aura, “That was the condition you set for yourself. You’re lucky to be alive at all. Asking for more would be selfish.”

Gon agrees with that. He still agrees, too, with what he’d told Mito himself; that if it wasn’t for his inability to use nen he would have been tempted to follow Ging to the Dark Continent. 

He was mature enough now to admit that he probably would have died there. Again. 

Still, despite all of that, Gon also knows that at the end of the day he _is_ selfish. So selfish. And he wants it back. He wants _Killua_ back. 

Despite his requests that they visit—which Gon suspects will never happen, though he isn’t _entirely_ certain why—he is privately glad that they haven’t turned up. The only people who know Gon can’t use nen anymore are Ging, Aunt Mito, and his Grandmother. The latter two would never spill his secret, and no matter what the man had or hadn’t done, he doesn’t think Ging would tell anyone something so important, either. After all, Gon has plenty of enemies out there who will happily take advantage of his weakness if they found out about it. 

Which is exactly why, until he figures out a way around his blocked aura sensors, he shouldn’t risk meeting with Killua. He can’t put that kind of trouble on his friend. Not again. He needs to stay away. He _needs_ to. No matter what. 

Gon returns to his desk and reads through his draft once more. His cheeks heat at the confessions. 

Despite his guilt at keeping this all secret, seeing it written in front of him feels like… a lot. More than he ought to be dumping on his friend, probably, if he doesn’t want Killua to suspect something is up. Especially given all the things left unsaid between them. Things like how easily Killua forgave him for his selfishness. How, exactly, Killua had managed to find him that night at all. How Gon had been brought back from the brink of death. 

Though no one had ever told him directly that Killua had played a large role in saving Gon’s life—or even how bad the damage to his body had truly been—they also hadn’t bothered covering up the evidence. In the aftermath, weeks after Killua had left him behind, Gon had dug up the archived news coverage concerning a hastily erected hospital wing for an “ultra special, highly secretive case” around the time of his hospitalization. He’d also seen footage of both Leorio’s confrontation with Ging, and his grand speech to the assembly at the final election. 

Combining that with a few off-handed remarks from other Hunters had painted a pretty clear picture. Yet, all Killua ever said was “Nanika is the one who brought you back.” And that? That wasn’t any explanation at all. 

So—hey!—he wasn’t the only one keeping secrets, was he?

So this is fair. 

Sorta.

With an explosive sigh, Gon stands up, grabs his fishing pole, and leaves the email unsent. It’s only been three weeks, he tells himself. They’ve had absences longer than this. He doesn’t need to go spilling his guts out just because Killua’s been a bit busy. 

It’s only been three weeks, he tells himself again. They used to disappear for longer. 

He can wait two more days. After that… 

After that he’ll figure something out. 


	2. Chapter 2

Two days later, Gon talks himself into waiting another two days. Then another two days. And another… and another…

Two full weeks go by before he finally convinces himself to hike out to a nearby hilltop where his Aunt won’t overhear this conversation, and dials a number he hasn’t used in far too long. 

He half expects it not to work anymore. Expects it so much, in fact, that after only one ring it startles him when the line opens and a familiar, perky, yet somehow chiding voice teases, “Hey there, Kid! Long time no chat.” 

“Hey, Bisky!” Gon chirps. It’s easy to sound happy to hear from her—because he is—but he hears the nervous undertone to his voice as he continues, “How’s that diamond hunt going?”

Hopefully Bisky will be too distracted by gemstone talk to pick up on it.

“You heard about that? Should’ve figured Killua would tell you.” She heaves a melodramatic sigh. Then, her voice softens to a lover’s simper, “Its.  _ Perfect _ ! Oh, Gon, you should see this  _ rock _ . It isn’t quite as exquisite as Planet-chan, of course, but it rings a close second. It’s just so… so  _ sparkly _ . I’m calling her Princess Glitter.”

Gon chuckles softly under his breath, hiding his relief. “I’m glad you’re happy with it. Was it hard to find?”

“Not particularly, once I knew where to look,” The woman quips in her unnaturally preteen voice. Even over the phone, with miles of distance between them, he feels the pause between them grow pregnant and Gon’s heartbeat speeds up. Then, far too casually she asks, “So, what’s wrong?”

Gon lifts his gaze skyward, watching the clouds float past overhead. He has his cell pressed against his ear as he lays back in the long grass at the crest of the hill, the shade of a tree falling just  _ so _ to alleviate some of the mid-summer heat. The minute shade doesn’t account for the chill that’s overcome him. She can still read him so well. “I missed you, and I was curious about your—”

“Don’t.” The reprimand is firm, though not angry. Not yet. “Gon, you haven’t called me in two years. I appreciate that we were never really the stay-in-constant-touch sort of friends—I don’t do that kind of friendship very well—and you were always a sweet kid, but I  _ know  _ you didn’t call me out of the blue to ask about a gem.”

He winces, feeling a little guilty over attempting to deceive her. Well, not really  _ deceive _ . Just skirt the issue a bit. Because he doesn’t want her to worry. That’s all. Certainly, he isn’t trying to keep her from understanding what he’s about to do. He absolutely isn’t worried that, if she figures him out, she might tag along. That absolutely  _ wouldn’t  _ be the worst thing ever. She totally, under no circumstances, would be able to suss out his secret in a few glances. She wouldn’t lose all respect for him. 

Nope. Wouldn’t happen. Not a chance.

He closes his eyes, steeling himself to accept just how screwed he is, and says, “I really am glad you found it, though.”

“I know,” she assures him. “So, what’s wrong?”

Gon bites his lip. “You saw Killua, um, a month back? Is that right?”

“A little over that, sure. I invited him and his sister to tag along, but they had plans. Why?”

“Did they tell you what kind of plans?”

“No…” Bitsy drawls, in a way that could be a lie or simple suspicion. Without seeing her face, he can’t tell. He was never as good at detecting lies as she was, just as he’s never been a good liar himself.

“Can you tell me where you were when you saw them?”

“I could.”

Gon can’t help the growing impatience in his voice. “Will you? Please?”

Sounding uncommonly serious, Bisky replies, “Tell me what’s going on, first.”

“I just need to get a hold of him.”

“So call him.”

Groaning, Gon flings himself into a sitting position as he snaps,“Why won’t you just tell me where you saw him?”

“Why won’t you tell me what’s going on?” Bisky shoots back. “I expect this kind of bull-headed stubbornness from you, Gon, but the Mr-Tight-Lipped act is creeping me out.”

“You’re not my mom, Bisky. Why do you need an explanation to tell me where Killua was?”

Bisky snorts derisively. “No, I’m not your mother. Nor do I want to be. I  _ was _ your trainer, though. I care about you boys.”

Before Gon can get a word in, she continues, “You may not want to tell me what’s going on, but I can make a damn good guess: you and Killua have been in contact until recently, when he suddenly stopped communication without any explanation. It’s been a while, you’re getting concerned, and I just so happen to be the last person you’re certain saw him. Is that about right?”

Why does Bisky have to be so good at this? She’d jumped straight to the right conclusion with no evidence beyond her familiarity with the boys, which only serves to bolster Gon’s belief that she’ll see straight through to his nen problem in no time. 

Gon wants to deny it. He wants to hang up and forget they ever started this conversation. The trouble is, Killua is still out there somewhere, and Gon can’t shake the notion that his friend stopped communicating because he’s in danger. Again. What if Killua somehow stumbled into a ring of underground mafia with super powers who are now hunting him and Alluka across the world? Or maybe he found a temple to an ancient god, woke it up, and is now battling to keep it from wiping out humanity? Or maybe… 

Gon’s imagination falters. Both ideas are patently ridiculous, sure, but that isn’t the problem. The issue is that, even with their acknowledged ridiculousness, nothing—literally nothing—truly seems off the table to him these days. Not after the Ants. 

Into the silence, Biskys asks, “Are you going after him?”

“I…”

“Because I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“What?!” A flock of birds vacated a nearby tree as Gon’s shout booms down the hill. “Why not?!”

On her end of the line, Bisky sighs. “Killua is a survivor, Gon. He knows how to take care of himself. If he isn’t answering you, then he has a reason. Eventually he’ll come back and tell you—”

“No one can guarantee he’ll come back.” Gon can hear Bisky’s mouth close with an audible click of teeth. “That’s not how it works, Bisky. I’m not a kid anymore. I get it now. Not everyone comes back, not all the time. Killua, you…  _ me _ . We do things that are reckless, and dangerous, and more often than not designed to get us killed. You can’t tell me he’s definitely going to come back because you don’t know that anymore than I do. You can’t know that, unless you know exactly where he is right now. So, do you?”

There are two ways her silence can be interpreted. Gon truly doesn’t know which to assume, and that hurts almost as badly as her suggesting, whether she intended to or not, that Killua is better off without him.

There’s nothing for it, he guesses. He has to give her some explanation. Maybe then she’ll understand. “Killua told me they were going spelunking. I haven’t heard from him since. Caves are… they’re dangerous and unpredictable. I’ve explored lots of them, and rescued lots of people from them, so I know.” He doesn’t mention the bodies he’s pulled from the depths when people—even those who knew what they were doing—took a simple wrong step or had a bad string of luck. It seemed somehow silly to worry over something so trivial compared to the things they used to do, under Bisky’s guidance no less. And yet. And yet… “I don’t really  _ know  _ that there’s anything wrong, but I’ve just—I’ve got this  _ feeling _ I can’t shake and… And I’m worried—”

“Hold on. Caves?” Bisky’s intrest piques. “But—”

“—they’re trapped down there. Maybe it’s too late, already, but I figured if I can work out which system they were visiting, then maybe—”

“Gon, there aren’t any caves out there.”

“—I can talk to someone or…” Gon trails off as her words sink in. “What?”

“There aren’t any caves near Pata City. Not that I’ve ever heard of, anyway. Maybe… well, there  _ is  _ a mountain range that’s sorta close by but it’s…”

The way that Bisky is hesitating sets off all the alarm bells in Gon’s head, and then some. He frowns into the distance, wracking his brain for the location of Pata City. It sounds familiar, but he’s terrible at geography. Pata City might as well be on the moon. “Where is that?”

“Gon…”

“You already said it, Bisky. Just tell me, or I’ll find out on my own. Where do you think they are? Why do you think Killua would lie to me?”

“I didn’t  _ say  _ he lied, Gon—” The woman cuts herself off with an aggravated sigh. “Okay. I’ll tell you. But not over the phone.”

“But—”

“Trust me on this. Meet me in Pata City by the end of the week.” 

With that, Bisky hangs up. Gon doesn’t bother redialing. He understands she won’t answer. Besides, even if she did, what could he possibly say? That he  _ hadn’t  _ planned to go after Killua? 

That would  _ absolutely  _ be a lie, he realizes. In fact, it’s already a lie he’s been telling himself every day for the past week, while he debated calling Bisky. It was a lie he’d probably been telling himself for two weeks, actually; ever since he first drafted and deleted that email. The same email he’d re-drafted, not sent, and deleted several times since. 

The truth was, Bisky was right. He’s been planning to go after Killua from the start, even though he knows he shouldn’t. Even though he knows it would be better for both of them if he didn’t. Of course he was. He’s always been a selfish creature at heart, hasn’t he?

How much of this is because he’s worried, and how much of it is just an excuse? 

Gon sighs, staring up at the fluffy clouds blissfully floating along in the robin’s egg sky. 

It doesn’t matter. Now that he’s gotten Bisky mixed up in this, too, it can’t matter. He’s committed. Either he shows up in Pata City, or she tracks him down here. 

Why’d he have to open his big mouth?

Gon stuffs his phone into the pocket of his shorts and retreats to the house at the bottom of the hill. 

##  ==^*(@)*^==

“I haven’t seen that face in a long time.” Aunt Mito cracks a smile as Gon accidentally snaps the plate he’d been drying. 

“Ah! S-sorry, Aunt Mito, I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” she assures him, taking the two halves of the plate away from him and setting them aside. “We’ll just have to repair it like the others.”

He laughs softly and rubs the back of his neck as she hands him the next plate. Then, in an unwitting echo of Bisky, she asks, “What’s wrong?”

The self-deprecating smile slips from Gon’s lips as he carefully dries the new plate, sets it aside, and accepts a pot. Usually, their after-dinner ritual of kitchen clean up involves the radio, a lot of off-key singing and ridiculous dances. Tonight, however, he’d been too distracted by his own thoughts to bother turning the music on. 

He takes a deep breath, then releases it, hesitates, and takes another. Aunt Mito remains silent, her focus seemingly caught up in removing a particularly stuck piece of food from a casserole dish. 

“How would you feel if I leave again? Not forever! Just… for a while.”

Mito sighs. “I thought we talked about this.”

Gon winces. “Yeah. I know you want me to go to school, but—”

“You can’t just rely on being a Hunter, Gon. That’s no kind of life. You need an education, too.”

“Why?” Gon frowns as he takes the now-spotless dish. “What for?”

“What for—” Mito sputters a laugh, shooting him an incredulous look. “How about your career? Do you want to be a park ranger for the rest of your life?”

“Sure! I love being a park ranger.”

Mito grimaces lightly and the spot between her eyebrows with a soapy hand. “Gon… Okay. So you want to stay with the Parks Department. That’s great, honey. I’m glad you’ve found your calling, and I’m happy for you to stay on Whale Island. But if you ever want to be promoted within the ranks, you need a degree. I already spoke to Director Fukihama about it.”

“Why would I want to be promoted?”

“Gon!”

“I’m serious! There isn’t anything I’d need to be promoted for. I don’t wanna be a director; they never get to have any fun. And it isn’t like I need the money. I’ve had a few million sitting in a bank for years, collecting interest. Plus, I bet even if I somehow got into a bind, I could just sell my license.”

“That isn’t the point,” Mito groans. “It isn’t about money, Gon.”

“Then what is it about?”

Mito braces her hands against the counter and hunches over it as she struggles to find a valid argument. “What are you planning to do, otherwise? You said you love being a park ranger, but you just asked about leaving.”

Gon twists his shoulders uncomfortably, turning away from her. “I thought… Killua was at the beach and…”

His Aunt’s attitude changes instantly. “Oh. Is  _ that  _ all this is? You just want to go play with your friend for a while?”

Though he isn’t sure why, Gon doesn’t care for the way she’s phrased that. He ought to be happy. After all, it sounds like she’ll let him leave without asking any more questions. He won’t even have to lie about his true intentions if he can just keep his mouth shut. 

Still, though, there’s something dismissive about her tone that rankles. “I don’t wanna ‘play,’ He needs—That is, I think he’s—I just need to—”

Mito frowns, once again growing noticeably concerned. “Need to… what?”

“Nothing. Nevermind.” He throws down his towel and begins to sort dry cutlery into the cabinets. 

Mito takes the towel and dries her hands, watching him. “Gon…” 

Gon stares down at the pile of dishes on the counter, and slowly returns the plate in his hands to the stack before he breaks a second one tonight. “I just want to see him.”

Her next question, quiet as it is, startles him. “You never forgot about him, did you?”

“No! Why would I forget about him?”

Mito shrugs one shoulder. “Maybe ‘forget’ is the wrong word. All I meant is that, well, people… move on. Sometimes the friendships you make when you’re young, they just don’t last the way you think they will at the time. The older you get, the more you change, the more  _ they  _ change and… Mm. People just grow apart.”

“Well, that’s not Killua and me,” Gon insisted. “I’d never forget about him, and he’d never forget about me. And I’m going to meet up with him in Pata City.”

“Pata city,” Mito asked sharply, “That isn’t a beach town.”

“It’s just where we’re meeting up,” Gon said, swearing to himself that it wasn’t—technically—a lie. 

Yet, Mito frowns. Something isn’t right, says the look on her face. Whatever it is she’s caught on to, though, she doesn’t say. 

Instead, Mito wraps her arms around herself and leans her hip on the counter. “How long will you be gone?”

“I’m not sure. But I’ll call. And write.”

Mito is quiet for a long moment, studying him. Finally, sounding exhausted and resigned, she asks, “You aren’t going to school, are you?”

Gon swallows a sigh. “No.”

He can see that he’s hurting her, and he hates it, but that answer has nothing to do with Killua or his leaving. He was never going to bother with highschool, and the worst thing he can do is drag her hopes out any further than he already has.

“I really hope you know what you’re doing,” Mito says, slowly. “But I can’t force you, and I won’t try. When are you leaving?”

“In the morning. First ferry out.”

“Okay,” says Mito, and it will have to be.

##  ==^*(@)*^==

Grandmother Abe isn’t any more happy that he’s leaving than Mito is, but when he tells her in the morning, she says she understands. After helping her with her breakfast for the last time, Gon kisses Abe’s cheek goodbye, then gives Mito a hug that leaves him momentarily disoriented. When had he gotten so tall that he could tuck her head beneath his chin? He doesn’t remember growing this tall, but here he is.

Mito pulls back and hands him a cloth-wrapped bento box. “For the road. Don’t forget, when you see Killua you tell him it’s high time he came by for another visit.”

“I’ve been trying to,” Gon assures her. “But this time I’ll make him if I have to. Promise.”

“You better.”

The ferry to the mainland won’t wait for him, Gon knows, so he slips a hiking pack onto his back, double checks that he has his cave gear, secures his fishing pole, and grabs his bike. Ahead of him lies the first real adventure he’s had in two years. For the life of him Gon can’t decide if he’s excited, or utterly terrified. 


	3. Chapter 3

Gon is an idiot. He should have bothered looking at a map. Instead, he’d just found the first flight to Pata City on the airship listings and boarded. Like an absolute moron. 

Standing at a window overlooking the city where the airship is about to land, it takes every bit of hard-won self control that Gon has not to scream at the vista laid out beneath him. 

He’s been near the N.G.L. since the calamity that nearly claimed his life. Hell, he went right up to the border. Once. Right after he was released from the hospital, in fact, to see Kite, and meet Kite’s newfound family of Chimera Ants. It hadn’t been (much of) a problem.

So why are his palms sweating? Why are his knuckles gripped white? Why does he want to throw up and throw punches at the same time?

He knows why. He just doesn’t want to admit it. Not his fear, nor the newfound certainty of what Bisky is going to tell him. It doesn’t make any sense… 

He’s so focused on the woefully familiar mountains resting upon the horizon, just a few miles outside Pata City, that he barely notices the airship landing or all the passengers debarking; not until an attendant steps nervously up to his side. 

“Excuse me? Sir? We need all the passengers to deboard now, please.”

Gon shakes himself from his stupor and flashes the attendant a semi-feral grin that causes her to trip backward several paces in alarm. “Right! Sorry! Sure thing!”

If his laughter is a little (read: very) manic and forced, Gon doesn’t notice. He gathers his things and high-steps it out of the airship and out into the city with every ounce of bravado he can muster. 

He’s not in the N.G.L., he reminds himself. He’s in Pata City. There’s still several miles between himself and the border. Best of all, from the ground Gon can’t see how close he is to his worst nightmare. 

Thanks to his Hunter’s License, Gon gets through customs in only a few minutes and heads out into the city. It’s been two days—nearly three—since he left Whale Island, and he can’t help but wonder if he’s beaten Bisky to the punch. Maybe, he thinks, I can find them myself and tell her she doesn’t need to get involved.

And maybe Bisky will track him down and rip him a new butthole. That seemed far more likely. Besides, hadn’t he thrown a fit at Kurapika for doing something similar a few years ago?

Resigning himself once again to his fate, Gon finds an empty alley, slides his phone from his pocket, and texts her. In a matter of minutes he has the name of a cafe, and general directions. 

##  ==^*(@)*^==

The high pitched squeal that greets him leaves Gon’s ears ringing. 

Killua hadn’t been exaggerating about Biscuit. She still looks exactly the same as she had two years ago, albeit her floofy pink dress has been exchanged for a different, though similar, floofy pink dress. (This one has more lace, he notes.) Her face is as youthful as ever, and her child’s voice is belied by her wine-aunt vocabulary. 

“Look at you! I always knew you were going to be a lady killer one of these days,” Bisky crows, bracing her chin against his chest so as to look up at him as she dangles from his waist. 

“Heh, I wouldn’t kill any ladies, Bisky. Not on purpose,” Gon laughs nervously, waiting for her to start screaming about his nen. His aura must be all over the place, no matter how firmly he’s attempting to hold it steady. That’s difficult without any ability to sense it, or see it, or even  _ feel  _ it. But even after all this time Gon’s never forgotten that small tension in the back of his mind that  _ should _ hold it under control. Maybe, if he’s really lucky, it still would. After all, it had fooled Ging.

“That’s what they all say,” she drawls, letting him go and backing up to get a better look at him. She curls a finger beneath her chin, her gaze raking up and down his body. Gon begins to sweat. “Life on that island sure seems to suit you. Height  _ and _ muscle, and that camouflage get-up isn’t half bad.” 

“Huh? Oh.” Mildly relieved and a lot confused, Gon looks down at himself. He can’t quite believe his outfit is the only thing she’s noticed. The camo-print cargo pants are the roomiest ones he owns, sure. They’re so roomy, in fact, he can fit three sandwiches in a single pocket, easy. He’d also brought a matching jacket along, but it’s tied around his waist, revealing both the dingy white tank top he wears underneath and the well-sculpted muscles of his lanky, teenage arms. All in all, he doesn’t think it’s anything special. Honestly, he wishes he had time to change into the shorts in his pack. It’s kind of hot out here. 

All he says is, “I wasn’t sure where Pata City was. I figured I should travel prepared.”

Bitsy flaps a hand at him. “Oh, I’m not judging. Trust me.” 

She leads him to a small table on the cafe patio, heedless of the people staring at them. “You didn’t bother looking at a map, then?”

Gon shrugs out of his hiking pack and leans it against the table as he sits down, admitting, “I got a bit distracted.”

Bisky hums. She traces a finger around the rim of what looks to be a tall strawberry milkshake. “So, now you know.”

“Yeah,” he says, folding his arms on the table in front of him. With no further boisterous displays of affection between them, the other patrons have all returned to their own affairs. Beyond the fenced boundary of the cafe patio, the cobblestoned street swarms with pedestrians going about their business. Overtop all this, the sounds of nearby vehicular traffic can be heard over the buzzing crowd and a ringing of cathedral bells on the other side of a nearby plaza. 

Finally, Gon can’t stand the silence any longer. “You really think he’s gone back to the N.G.L.?”

“I’m not sure-sure, but it seems like a strong possibility.”

“Why? What could he possibly want to find there? That place—it doesn’t hold anything but bad memories. For both of us.”

“I don’t doubt that. But you know how it is. Sometimes bad memories are the ones people run toward the fastest.”

Gon shakes his head. “No. That’s not Killua.” 

“You sure about that?”

Gon begins to insist, then pauses, wondering if it’s the truth. Does Bisky have a point?

After that confrontation with Illumi during their first Hunter’s Exam, Killua  _ had  _ immediately turned heel and run home. But that was different, wasn’t it? Though they’d never found any evidence to back their theory up, Gon remains convinced that Killua hadn’t been entirely in control of himself when that happened. Illumi had brainwashed him, somehow. Maybe—and Gon is surprised that he never connected this before—maybe Illumi had used a nen ability on his brother! That makes a lot of sense, actually. Too much sense.

So what other examples are there? 

The more Gon thinks about it, the more he feels like Killua’s tendency to run  _ toward  _ danger had a lot to do with Gon. Oh, sure, Killua was more than capable of handling a little danger, and he was just as hot-headed as Gon could be, and he  _ was  _ the sort of person (similar to Gon) who joined a Hunter’s Exam for the sheer fun of it. But Gon couldn’t think of a single example of Killua willfully walking toward something that he knew would hurt  _ him _ , specifically. 

Except… one time. Maybe. 

“Hey, Bisky?”

The girl leaves off slurping on her milkshake to raise both eyebrows at him in question. She’d been quite content to let him brood while she sucked down her drink, it seems. 

“Do you know what all happened with the Chimera Ants? At the end, I mean.”

“Mmm. I’ve heard stories,” she says, cautiously. “I wasn’t there.”

“I know. But, nng, no one will tell me the truth about it, and I think I need to know.”

“The truth, huh?” She plays with her straw, watching the rest of her milkshake slowly melt in the heat. “Well, can’t say that I know the truth myself. Again, I’ve only heard stories. But I can try to fill in the blanks if you’re really sure you want to know.”

Before he can say that he does, Bisky meets his eyes. “Be  _ really _ sure, Gon. I don’t like keeping people in the dark about their own shit, but I agreed with Leorio and the others about certain things at the time.”

“Certain things?”

“You were a kid. A damned tough kid, sure. One who had been through a lot of shit already, and it’s not like I’m inclined to think kids can’t handle a bit of trouble, but—” Bisky presses her lips together. “It was just a shitty situation, and I kind of figured you’d piece it all together on your own, anyway, given time.”

“Well, I haven’t,” he says. “It’s all a blank past a certain point. The doctors said those memories are gone for good, and I’m probably lucky they are. So I get it. It was bad. But I don’t like the fact that no one will tell me the whole truth.”

“Do you  _ really  _ get it, though?” Bisky shakes her head when he starts to protest, holding one hand up. “That was rhetorical. So. Truth time: from what I’ve heard, you followed one of the shitstains somewhere because they promised you a miracle. Do you remember that?”

“Yeah. Neferpitou,” Gon confirms. He blinks rapidly to clear his vision of the ant’s cat-like face. 

Bisky’s eyebrows furrow, but if she’s reconsidering telling him all this, she doesn’t hesitate to continue, “Well, if any of them know what happened when you were with him—”

“Them.”

“— _ Them _ , they haven’t told me. Whatever it was, it was bad enough that you felt the need to pull a major hail mary to win.”

“I know. I remember that much. I didn’t care about living, I just wanted Neferpitou to die.” Gon shakes his head. “No. I wanted them to  _ suffer _ .” 

Somehow, the distinction feels important.

“Well, congratulations on that part. You definitely accomplished that, if the paste they pulled out of the wreckage was any indication.” Bisky sighs, and waits with her hands wrapped around her thawing milkshake as she examines him. Eventually, she asks, “So if you remembered all that, what are you confused about?”

“The last thing,” says Gon, his voice a distant whisper as he struggles to keep himself from lingering on the memory of power flooding through his body and brain matter coating his hands, “The last thing I remember is Killua’s face. After that… I woke up in the hospital, and people were crying and hugging me. Was I hallucinating, or did Killua really find me that night? Is he why—”

_ Is he why I’m alive? _

Bisky leans her cheek into one fist, rolling the stem of her milkshake glass between the fingers of her other hand. “What do you think?”

“I think…” He wets his lips. “I think maybe Killua  _ does  _ run toward the things that hurt him.”

“Hm,” is all Bisky says. Then she flags down a waiter and buys them both a second round of milkshakes. 

##  ==^*(@)*^==

A couple hours later, Gon is being backed out of the local Parks and National Services office by a short, deeply annoyed bureaucrat. He pleads, even as he stumbles over the threshold, “You’re  _ sure  _ there aren’t any cave systems around here? Absolutely positive? Maybe there’s some that haven’t been mapped yet!”

“For the last time,  _ yes _ , I’m sure,” snaps the administrator. “If you want to find a cave, your nearest bet is the mountains to the southeast, but I wouldn’t try that if I were you. They aren’t meant for tourists, and the locals are absolute freaks of nature.”

Before Gon can get another question in, or even thank her, the woman slams the office door in his face. He sighs, and backs off, politely nodding toward the secretary as he makes his way back outside. 

“Looks like that went well,” quips Bisky, falling into step behind him as Gon blindly chooses a direction down the street. 

“I had to ask. I had to be  _ sure _ .”

“I’m not disagreeing with you,” Bisky clarifies. “So, what did they say?”

“There aren’t any known cave systems around here. Except for some in the N.G.L.”

Without a single word spoken, Bisky’s face radiates ‘I told you so.’ 

“I don’t get it!,” Gon explodes, “What could Killua possibly want with some random cave in the N.G.L.? And why would he take  _ Alluka _ there, of all people? He told me the only reason he didn’t go on your gem job was because she wasn’t ready for your kind of action. You don’t do anything half as dangerous as that.”

Bisky perks up that information. “Is that why? That’s weird. It wasn’t that dangerous of a job, and the kid showed gumption. I wouldn’t have invited them if I didn’t think she was capable. I thought Killua would know that.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Gon says, hoping he hasn’t just let on to something Killua didn’t want Bisky to know. “Alluka is still in training. He hasn’t even started her on nen yet.”

“Is that so? She has a pretty tight aura for someone who hasn’t learned to control herself,” says Bisky. “So, he was protective enough of Alluka to keep her away from me, but still took her into one of the more dangerous places in the known world? You’re right, it seems off.”

The pair turn down another road, meandering aimlessly as they speak. 

Then Bisky asks, “Do you think he might have dropped her off somewhere?”

“Not likely,” Gon muses. Though Alluka had promised to ‘return’ Killua to Gon soon—two years ago—the trio had yet to mention anything in their emails about wanting to part ways. If anything, they seemed closer than ever; constantly in one another’s pockets. Not unlike how he and Killua used to be. 

Realizing that he’s feeling awkwardly…  _ something  _ about Killua’s sisters, Gon shakes his head and tries to consider the question without bias. The fact is, he  _ doesn’t  _ know for certain that Killua wouldn’t leave the girls somewhere. He’s just making an assumption. After all, Killua never said anything of the sort to him. 

So if he were Killua, and  _ was  _ planning to go into a place where they’d both suffered so much pain and death already, where would he stash his sisters? Where, in this whole wretched place, might they be safe?

“Actually,” he says as a new thought occurs to him, “There may be  _ one  _ person he would trust to watch over her. Their base isn’t too far from here.”

##  ==^*(@)*^==

The castle where Kite’s newfound family is stationed hasn’t changed much in the two years since Gon was first taken there. In fact, the largest change he notices is that the nearby scar left by his and Neferpitou’s fight has been partially reclaimed by the surrounding forest. A strip of two-year-old sapling growth and high grass marks where he launched the Chimera into the forest. 

“Pay attention!” Bisky punches his arm, pulling his attention back to the door. 

“I don’t think anyone’s home,” she says, once it’s apparent he’s snapped back to reality enough to follow her. 

“Why do you say that?”

“Well, while you were transfixed, I was ringing the doorbell several times with nothing to show for it. Also, there’s no cars anywhere.”

“They could be around back—”

“I already checked. There’s a garage, but the lights are off and a spot’s empty.”

Had he really been out of it that long? Gon winces, scratching the back of his neck. “I guess I should have called first. They might be on an expedition somewhere.”

“I thought this group was policing the N.G.L.?”

“Sort of,” Gon hedges as he pulls his phone out and begins thumbing through contacts. His list is woefully long for the miniscule amounts of time he actually spends talking to anyone. “They act as mediators, primarily, between the human and ant populations. The Hunter’s Association never established any new laws for the area—except in suspending the ‘no technology’ ruling for Hunters—they just let the people live however they want to. But that doesn’t mean anyone was comfortable with the idea of one of the Ants deciding to set up a kingdom or something.”

“So this ‘Kite’ runs a vigilante group to keep that from happening,” Bisky summarizes.

“I guess you’d call it that, yeah. Here he is—”

Just before Gon punches Kite’s contact info, his phone buzzes with a notification. Gon’s eyes widen with disbelief. 

“What’s the matter?” Bisky asks.

“It’s… It’s Killua.”

##  ==^*(@)*^==

**TO** : gon   
**FROM** : guess   
**SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

Hey! Sorry, that took longer than I thought it would. I did tell you not to worry, though. We’re fine. There’s no service down there (duh, right?) so I wasn’t getting any of your emails. 

Anyway, the girls and I are fine. Actually, it’s pretty fucking fun. Nanika is weirdly in her element with all this, and Alluka’s training is really coming along. Anyway, we really just came up for some air and supplies before we go back down. There’s a lot more to this than we thought there would be, so we might go silent again for a while. Try not to flip out this time, okay? 

-K

P.S. Still avoiding that question, huh?

##  ==^*(@)*^==

“What’s it say?” Bisky whines, sounding ever closer to the age she looks to be as she tugs on Gon’s elbow in an attempt to get at his phone. Gon, now tall enough to play ‘Keep Away’ without really thinking about it, nearly lets her have it out of sheer, furious spite. 

It’s the mention of Nanika that stops him. Killua always seemed serious about keeping Nanika’s existence secret, and no matter how much rage is boiling up inside Gon he doesn’t feel right betraying the girls’ secret like that. 

“Can’t believe him,” he mutters as he begins to type, all while dodging Bisky’s continued attempts at getting his phone. 

##  ==^*(@)*^==

**TO** : guess   
**FROM** : gon   
**SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

WHAT KIND OF CAVE DO YOU GET LOST IN FOR SIX WEEKS, HUH? OH WAIT. I KNOW. AN ANT CAVE. RIGHT? IS THAT IT???

##  ==^*(@)*^==

Gon hits send and holds his breath even as he holds the phone higher. Bisky’s jumping for it now.

“Gon! Gon, you tell me what he’s saying right now! I swear I’ll kill both of you!!”

##  ==^*(@)*^==

**TO** : gon   
**FROM** : guess   
**SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

I told you not to worry, and I meant it. We’re fine. I don’t know what you’ve heard, or what you mean by “ant cave,” but you don’t need to worry. Now let it go. Okay?

-K

##  ==^*(@)*^==

**TO** : guess   
**FROM** : gon   
**SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

Now who isn’t answering questions, huh? I’m not letting this go, and neither is Bisky. Where are you?

##  ==^*(@)*^==

**TO** : gon   
**FROM** : guess   
**SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

You brought Bisky into this?! What the hell? I thought you trusted me. I know what I’m doing, Gon. 

##  ==^*(@)*^==

**TO** : guess   
**FROM** : gon   
**SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

Yeah, I brought Bisky into it! You didn’t leave me any choice. She was the last person who saw you both alive. 

Of course I trust you, but that doesn’t mean I’m just gonna let you go off and die on me. When she figured out you went into the NGL, I freaked. Okay? We’re both worried out of our minds. Just tell us what’s going on. Maybe we can help.

##  ==^*(@)*^==

**TO** : guess   
**FROM** : gon   
**SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

Oh come on, Kill, I know you’re still there. Answer me, or I’m calling you. I know how much you hate that. C’mon.

##  ==^*(@)*^==

**TO** : gon   
**FROM** : MAILER-DAEMON@PROTECTRON.ORG   
**SUBJECT** : Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re:Re: Yo

Sorry, we were unable to deliver your message to the following address… 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kite drops truth bombs, Bisky cares more than she likes, and Gon is a well-meaning brat.

Bisky has resorted to repeatedly—though lightly—kicking Gon’s shins in petulant, childish frustration by the time Gon admits to himself that this is really happening. Killua deleted his email; full stop; account and all. He punches the boy’s phone number and waits impatiently for a pickup. An automated message replies. He tries again, and the same thing happens. Again. And again. And again.

Gon stares at the phone in his hand for a long, blank moment as he tries to process what’s happened. 

“Gon?” Bisky’s voice is gentle now. Her antics calmed as his obvious distress grew until, finally, she’s left awkwardly hugging her arms as she stares up at him with big, worried eyes. “What’s going on?”

“I think… I think he just cut me off.”

“What do you mean?”

Gon absently tips the phone so she can read the bounced email. To Bisky’s credit, she doesn’t attempt to take the device this time. Instead her brow furrows. “What did he have to say? Originally?”

“Something about how the cave system was larger than he thought, that they’re fine, and they’re going back down again, soon. He didn’t want me to worry. He’s acting like he hasn’t been silent for over a month.”

The phone casing cracked in his hand, and Gon forced his fingers to relax. 

Bisky watched the device a moment, then his face. “And then he cut you off?”

“I refused to drop it, so… yeah. Seems like he did.”

“That doesn’t sound like Killua.”

Gon wasn’t so sure. He wasn’t sure about much, anymore. Before he can formulate a reply, however, the rumble of an approaching engine snags both their attention. Behind them, roaring up the cliffside road, is an offroad jeep with several people stuffed inside.

##  ==^*(@)*^==

Kite and his mixed group of Amature Hunters and Chimera Ants were happy to see Gon finally out and about again. They were also kind enough to invite both him and Bisky inside once they’d begun unpacking from their recent trip. 

“We went into the N.G.L. to speak with a few villages about a growing bandit problem in the area,” Kite explains as they settle in the kitchen. He winds his long red hair into a messy bun and shoves it beneath his customary black hat before he begins unpacking the brown paper shopping bags they’d come in with. 

Colt, the first of the Chimera Ants to turn to the side of humanity and utterly unchanged since the last time Gon had seen him, makes a strange face at the sight, protesting, “My Queen, you don’t need to—” 

“Call me your ‘Queen’ one more time, and I’ll squash you,” Kite snaps. “We’ve been over this, Colt. I’m more than capable of doing chores.”

“I know, but we have company and…” Colt trails off with a sigh. “May I help, at least?”

Kite gestures irascibly toward the bags littering the kitchen counter, and Colt moves in to help. As they sort through the groceries, Bisky and Gon take seats at the breakfast bar, watching them. 

The sight of Kite’s new form is still surreal to Gon. Though they’d been in contact a little over the past two years (admittedly not as often as he and Killua had, but in the form of actual phone calls instead of emails,) and while Gon had become used to Kite’s new  _ voice _ , he’d never fully become accustomed to Kite’s new body. 

Given the Chimera Ants’ incredibly fast maturation rate, Gon had expected Kite to look somewhat different by now. Taller, maybe. More ant-like. The last they’d seen of each other, Kite had appeared to be a prepubescent girl with red hair and slightly over-large violet eyes. Kite  _ still _ had the outward likeness of a prepubescent girl with that same colouring. Nothing had changed at all. In retrospect, Gon probably should have guessed this was as “mature” as Kite would ever get. No matter how extraordinarily human Kite might seem at first glance, the fact is that he  _ isn’t  _ human. Not anymore. Human norms, like what “maturity” would look like, simply do not apply to him. 

“Gon doesn’t care if we’re informal,” Kite says, then lifts a brow at Gon. “Do you?”

“Not at all. I’d offer to help, but I don’t know where anything goes.”

Kite shrugs. “It isn’t like we need it. So what are you doing here, anyway?”

“It’s Killua,” says Gon, without any preamble. “We’re worried about him, and we thought you might have seen him.”

“Worried about him?” Kite’s mild surprise is evident; like he can’t believe anyone would bother. “Why’s that?” 

Gon frowns, and briefly waits for Bisky to take up the narrative. Instead, she waits patiently beside him until Gon pulls the situation out of himself word by word. It’s harder this time than it was before, when speaking only to his former teacher. That isn’t only due to the increased audience. This time, with every word Gon wonders why Killua cut him off so suddenly, and whether or not getting more involved actually is a good idea. If Killua doesn’t want his help… Should he be telling Kite any of this?

It’s too late to stop now.

“That doesn’t sound like Killua,” Kite says, when Gon reaches his conclusion. The man frowns, pausing over a bag of plantains. “At least, not when it comes to  _ you _ .”

“What do you mean?”

Bisky snorts in amusement. “He means that Killua would  _ absolutely  _ shut down anyone else for being too nosy. You were always different, though.”

“Maybe I used to be,” says Gon, shrugging through the hurt. “Maybe he’s just finally learning.”

It’s Bisky’s turn to frown. “Learning what?” 

“Not to go after the things that hurt him.”

“Gon…“

“Self-flaggation aside,” Kite says, voice cutting through the moment like a knife, “I don’t like the idea of him running around the N.G.L. without backup. Especially if he has an untrained kid tagging along. That place isn’t  _ as _ dangerous as it used to be, back when the Ants were roaming unchecked, but there’s a lot of area that’s still more-or-less unmapped. And then there’s that bandit problem we’ve been hearing about.”

“So we go after him,” says Bisky with a shrug. “He won’t thank us for it, but—”

“No.” 

To Gon’s credit, he hadn’t meant to say it. It wasn’t planned. But now that his refusal is out there, and all eyes in the room have turned to him, he knows two things: one, that he meant what he said, and two, that he’s a dumb asshole who’s going to get himself killed. He’s fine with both items. 

Bisky’s voice is tight as she asks, “What do you mean  _ ‘no’ _ ?”

“I mean ‘no,’” says Gon. “ _ I’m _ going after Killua. No one else.”

Kite lifts an eyebrow, but his voice remains alarmingly even as he asks, “If I didn’t want Killua running around out there with only one other person, what makes you think I want you running around out there  _ alone _ ?”

“Or that I’m not going to follow you no matter what you say,” adds Bisky.

“It doesn’t matter what you want,” Gon says, to both of them, “I’m going after Killua alone. That’s it.”

Bisky raises a delicate eyebrow. “And you’re going to make us do that… how?”

“I’m going to ask you to trust me, and respect my wishes,” says Gon, hearing at once the hypocritical nature of his statement. He doesn’t care that it’s hypocritical, though. He never has. “Besides, it doesn’t make any sense for all of us to go.”

“How do you figure that?” Kite leans back against an island counter, crossing his arms. 

“We don’t know for sure that anything’s  _ actually  _ wrong. Especially now that he replied. You just said yourself that the N.G.L. isn’t as dangerous as it used to be, and Killua and I ran around there for a long while before—” Gon’s voice breaks and dies. Before they got Kite killed with their hubris. 

Kite’s expression doesn’t change. “Yeah, you two were capable of handling a lot.  _ Together _ . Alone, though… I actually trust Killua in there on his own more than I do you. Killua at least has the sense to know when to run.”

Gon flinches at that, and Kite’s shoulders relax. The man gives him a rare, semi-apologetic smile. “It’s only the truth.”

“I know,” says Gon. “Killua was always better about that than I was.”

So quietly that Gon almost doesn’t believe it’s her, Bisky asks, “Then why go after him? Why not let him finish whatever he’s doing, and wait for him to contact you?”

“Will he?” Gon shakes his head before anyone can answer that. “Given his responses, he’s probably not even in danger. It’s just that I—I still need to see him. Even if he doesn’t want to see me. I need to be sure. That’s all. And maybe, if it’s both of us  _ and  _ Alluka out there, it’ll be even less dangerous. Right? If I can find him, then you won’t need to, Kite.”

Kite takes a deep breath. Gon waits for him to insist that they find Killua together, or alternatively for Kite to try and talk him out of doing this at all. The latter would be warranted, especially now that it seems like this entire trip has been utterly pointless.

Instead, the man just looks thoughtful. Behind him, Colt clears his throat. “My Qu—er. Kite, if I can be so bold, Gon has a point. Maybe it isn’t ideal that they’re out there on their own, but there are a lot of children who live in the N.G.L. already. We don’t bar them from existing in the area. It might be dangerous, but it isn’t anything they haven’t proven themselves capable of handling together. Perhaps, if Gon took one of the satellite phones and promised to check in from time to time, we could let him try?”

“Satellite phones?” 

Kite nods. “There aren’t any cell towers out there, so your normal phone won’t work far past the border. We use the SAT phones when we’re on mission.” Kite’s gaze jumps over to the table where Gon and Bisky set their equipment when they came inside. He eyes Gon’s hiking pack in particular, and the various bits of equipment secured to its sides. “You look like you came prepared for this.”

“I came prepared to pull them from a cave,” Gon agrees, skipping the part where he’d been preparing himself to retrieve their corpses. “I know how to survive in the wilderness. You know that.”

“I do. And I’m not going to be the person who stops you from going after your friend when you feel like they need you. Just remember to call for backup the minute you think you  _ might _ need it. Don’t wait until you’re in over your head already. Can I trust that you’ll listen to my orders this time?”

The chastisement stings, even though Gon knows it’s warranted. He remembers all too clearly the confrontation that killed Kite. Though Gon had felt back then that running away had been their mistake, he understood now that that wasn’t right. The  _ mistake  _ had been his refusal to run when they had the chance—when Kite directly ordered them to—thus forcing Kite to split his attention. If Killua hadn’t been there to pull him out of the fight… “Don’t worry. I’ve learned my lesson. I swear.”

Kite nods briefly, then looks to Colt. “Get him a phone.”

“Yes, my—mmsdfj.” With a self-frustrated sigh, Colt snaps work, bustling out the door and off into the castle. As soon as he’s gone, Kite picks himself off the counter and returns to putting up their groceries.

“Um, Kite?” Gon asks. 

“Yeah?”

“Colt keeps calling you his, uh, his—”

“Queen,” Kite finishes, without rancor. “Yeah. It wasn’t apparent at first, but once I hit maturity my power became obvious. I am, after all, Meruem’s twin.”

“Because you were born at the same time?”

Kite nods. “That’s right. This body—my body—must have absorbed some of his power in the womb. Colt doesn’t mean anything by calling me that. He’s hardwired to be obedient and respectful toward me, whether or not he wants to be. Part of that respect is using a title that fits my natural purpose. It doesn’t matter that I refuse to fill said purpose.” 

In other words, Kite refused to breed a nest. Gon swallows hard against rising bile at both the thought of another Chimera Ant nest to contend with, and the distinctly revolting concept of a person forced by their own biology to give birth as their only purpose in this world. There was something deeply horrific about that notion. 

Softly, Kite says, “Don’t worry. I’m a vegetarian these days.”

Bisky glances blankly between them, not quite seeming to understand, but for once too respectful to question it. Instead, she waits for Gon to collect himself, then puts a white-gloved hand on his arm. “Gon, are you  _ sure  _ you want to do this alone?”

Gon sighs. In truth, he isn’t sure. He doesn’t know how long it’s going to take him to track down Killua and Alluka. The N.G.L. is a big place, after all, and as Kite said, it’s largely unmapped. The fact that Killua was angry enough to delete his entire damned email, and disconnect his phone left Gon extra queasy about facing his… his friend? If they  _ were  _ still friends. 

But taking Bisky with him would be a risk. Somehow, she hasn’t yet figured out that he can't use his nen. Neither had Kite or Colt, apparently. Gon isn’t even sure how he’s fooling them, though it’s more likely pure dumb luck and the fact that none of them have gotten into a fight or needed to use any of the advanced techniques yet. Once they did… 

It’s only a matter of time before they notice. When that happens, they’ll never let him enter the N.G.L. on his own. He seriously doubts they’d even let him in with a group.

Furthermore, if they get out there and  _ then _ Bisky finds out, she’s going to drag him back by his ear while ripping him that prophesied new butthole. Hell, she might kill him outright. Never let it be said the woman doesn’t have a temper.

No. He can’t risk having Bisky along any further. 

“I’m sure,” he says, face set and determined. “I really appreciate your help Bisky, but I need to talk to Killua on my own. I promise I’ll call for backup if it’s necessary, though.”

After a long careful study of the boy next to her, Bisky sighs and nods defeatedly. “Alright. Have it your way! Just be sure to keep that check-in, okay? Kite, you’ll let me know if he doesn’t?”

“Sure,” says the man, and everything is as settled as it’s going to get. 

##  ==^*(@)*^==

The SAT phone is a bulky, impractical device with several accessories that Gon has to reorganize his entire pack to accommodate. He makes the room, though, understanding that having the device is both practical and completely necessary if he wants to get away from the adults. 

Even more welcome is the map Colt presents him with. 

“I thought you said the N.G.L. wasn’t properly mapped,” Gon asks, unfolding the heavy paper across a table. 

“That’s a bit of a… misnomer, for lack of a better word,” explains Colt. He leans over the table with Gon, gesturing to the various markings on the map. The majority of them are in the north and north-west region, tapering off to little more than suggestions in the south and east quadrants. “We have satellite imagery of the entire region, which is why there are notations for the mountain ranges, forests, lakes; that sort of thing. The villages that are large enough to be seen via those methods are also marked, though we haven’t necessarily made contact with the locals yet—particularly in the southern reaches.”

Gon nods, glancing at a few city markings with no explanatory labels toward the bottom of the map. 

Colt continues, “Over the past two years, our group and a few others from the Hunter’s Association have begun more localized mapping, starting with the areas closest to our border for, ah, obvious reasons.”

“So what are these?” Gon taps a series of markings along the mountain range south of the border stop. 

“Known cave systems,” Colt admits. “I know what you’re thinking—and maybe you’re right—but those caves are ones that were being used by the previous government’s stooges. They were cleared of equipment before the Hunter’s Association officially allowed any of the Chimera to return to the region.”

“Did anyone bother mapping them?”

“Possibly, but if they did we don’t have any records of that here. From my own memory, however, they were all straight forward. If there  _ were  _ entrances to a larger system beneath the known sections it’s possible the smugglers who used them sealed those areas off to prevent accidents.”

“That sounds reasonable,” Gon has to agree. “Still, I’d like to check them out. If Kite asks, that’s where I’m headed first.”

“I’m sure he’ll be glad to know,” Colt agrees with a smile. He waits as Gon folds the map back up, then holds out a pack of grease pencils. “Here. If it isn’t too much trouble, can I ask that you try to note down anything interesting you find while out there? We’re mostly looking for villages that were too small to see by satellite, other cave systems, unusual landmarks or anything particularly noteworthy. Some of our expeditions have turned up previously unknown species of flora and fauna… though a fair amount of the latter was decimated by, well,  _ us _ . Back then.”

“Sure! Actually, it should be nice to have something to do while I’m hiking. I love doing geographical surveys.”

“You’ve done these before?”

“Yeah. Not quite like this, exactly, but back home I’m a park ranger. We try to keep an eye on the local wildlife since it’s an island and all. The ecosystem can be a fragile thing.”

“Huh,” grunts Colt, nonplussed by this declaration. “Sounds like you may be better prepared for this than I thought.”

By the time they finished packing Gon up, and going over their schedule for reporting in, dusk had settled over the land. 

Though eager to get going, Gon agrees to stay the night at the castle. He eats dinner with their group, chatting amicably enough but all the while deeply aware of Killua’s ongoing silence. Later, he lays in the last bed he’ll know for a long time, and tries to sleep. 

Easier said than done. Not only is he consumed with worry that Killua has written him off forever, but outside, out in the dark forest, Gon is certain he can still hear the wet impacts of his fists into Neferpitou’s skull. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gon enters the N.G.L. and soon finds the first signs of trouble.

“I’ll be waiting to hear from Kite,” Bisky reminds him, all the while dangling over the back of Kite’s jeep with her arms thrown around Gon’s shoulders. He gives her a one-armed hug in return, smiling despite himself. Behind him, the dual trees of the border stop loom. 

“I know, I know. Don’t worry. I’ll be fine.”

“Mm,” is all the woman says, but she lets him go and climbs back into her seat. With Koala at the wheel, and Colt perched on the Jeep’s overhead frame like an overgrown, unaccountably ugly parakeet, their oddball collection of humans and magical beasts hasn’t gone unnoticed by the nearby border guard. That said, the border guard sport several Chimera of their own, and seem to recognize the vehicle. 

“I called ahead to let them know you’re coming,” Kite says from the front passenger’s seat. “Not that you should have any trouble, even without my say-so. You still have your license on you, right?”

“Always.”

“Good. If you run into any trouble and need immediate assistance try to get to one of the villages we have marked. The standing guard makes routine passes through the areas we know.”

Gon, who’d heard this same lecture several times already, simply nods. Kite nods back, gestures to Koala, and the jeep peels off. Simultaneously, Colt leaps into the air, sending up clouds of dust as his massive wings jerk him aloft. Left behind, Gon shields his eyes with one arm, watching as they disappear into a cloud of dirt, scooting across the wasteland; south toward the distant reaches of Pata City.

He got what he wanted. He’s alone, and going after Killua. 

And he couldn’t possibly feel shittier about it.

##  ==^*(@)*^==

Passing through customs is far easier now than it had been two years ago. With his Hunter’s license in evidence, Gon is allowed to keep all his electronics and non-”natural” clothing. The guards barely even glance at him as he lopes off down the tree roots, taking a sharp turn south once he hits the ground. He stops a short hike out, taking in a deep breath of the impossibly clean air. 

It’s mid-summer and hotter than a scrambled egg on asphalt. It is not, however, all that humid, despite the nearby river. Gon is used to far wetter climes, and the heat here feels almost like a warm blanket wrapped around him in the dead of winter. The overall comfort of this feeling stabilizes him, helping to stave off his lingering, back-of-the-mind fear of this place and it’s memories. Now, Gon is able to look at the adventure laid before him and allows himself to feel excited. For the first time in years he’s going somewhere relatively new; venturing off into the unknown… And it is exhilarating.

The peaks of the mountains are still distant here, rising from the river bank several miles ahead, but he thinks he’ll make them before nightfall. Nenless or not, Gon still has his extraordinary speed and stamina to rely on. He’ll make decent time whether or not he wants to.

By noon, his estimations are proven correct. The foothills roll up beneath his feet, elevating him above the river still burbling a little ways off to his right, peeking in and out from behind a growth of trees. Gon slows from a run to a ground-eating lope that can be maintained several more hours, easy, as surveys the forest around him for signs of a cave. 

The night before, while checking over the map with Colt, Gon had identified several karst lines—scars of sparsely covered or completely bald rock face—running through this region. Though the survey group had only labeled three caves, Gon was fairly certain there were more—or, as they’d discussed, there might be an entire system which underpinned those marked three. That occurred often enough Gon felt it a reasonable conclusion. 

From the ground it was harder to identify karst regions due to a lack of vantage point. Colt’s ability to fly would have come in handy for this, Gon has to admit. However, using his compass and landmarks gleaned from the maps, he’s fairly certain he’s kept on course. When he comes across the first dry creek bed, he knows he is. 

Gon hitches his pack a little higher on his back as he crackles his way across the leaf littered forest floor. To his right rises a limestone cliff face—perfect for hiding caves—and all around him the forest buzzes with the sounds of summer life. Distant birdsong, the knocking of woodpeckers, the strangely haunting calls of deer further out into the forest. 

The animals nearest him are much more quiet. Gon knows they’re there—he’s always had preternaturally good senses, particularly his sense of smell and hearing—but they’re wary of his passing in the way most prey animals are of anything different or unknown. Or known, he adds belatedly. There are villages near here, after all, and there was an influx of Chimera Ants only two years ago. Unlike the inhabitants of his home forest, these creatures might well recognize humans as predators. 

It’s a sad thought, to some degree, but not one which is unwarranted. Gon reminds himself that he can’t use the local wildlife as any sort of ‘tell,’ and to keep his mind sharp and instincts alert. 

Perhaps that was unnecessary.

The first sign of habitation he finds is a long scar in the trees, not unlike the one where he killed Neferpitou. Someone had cleared a space here, once, just a little wider than a standard jeep. It’s now filled with saplings and overgrowth thicker than inside the forest proper, where the canopy prevents this sort of wild abundance. 

One half of the scar veers off into a curve in the trees, and the other end terminates at a dark, too-perfect archway carved into the mountainside. This is the first cave the Amature Hunters marked, Gon knows as a tingle of fear dances up his spine. It’s disturbingly similar to one he’s been inside before; a cave where he nearly died. He would have died, if not for Kite.

This is not that cave. That cave was over a day’s walk into the N.G.L. This one is different. That does not make it any easier for him to approach. 

Nostrils twitching to find any scent either animal or human lingering upon the air, Gon flips on the solar torch clipped to his backpack strap. A pale, circular white light blooms ahead of him, illuminating the back of a dome-like cavern. 

The interior of the cave is littered in debris obviously blown or drug in from the forest; mostly leaves, broken branches, a few scattered and mouldering bones. Despite the last addition, there cave lacks the kind of strong animal must that comes from an occupied cave. Gone is fairly certain that while some animal or another might have taken refuge here over the years, none are currently in residence. That gives him the courage to move a little deeper in, inspecting some of the bizarre shapes looming in the darkness. 

Furniture, he realizes after a quick inspection of a nearby pile. There’s still some furniture scattered about the room, though it’s all skeletal now. The parts that were soft—cloth, stuffing—have completely rotted away. The wood is going next, with only the plastics and metals more-or-less untouched. Still, he can tell that most of what was left were largely chairs, tables, empty filing cabinets and the likes. Anything that might have told him what this place was once used for is long past removed or disintegrated. 

Toward the back of the room is another tunnel; equally smooth-edged and manmade to its sibling entrance. A wire snakes along the wall, the end severed from anything functional, and runs along the length of the tunnel's ceiling until it disappears around the corner of a smaller, equally man-made cave. Or, more likely, man-altered. 

There’s no leaf litter back here, but there are stains on the stone floor which still reek ever-so-faintly of gasoline and oil. Gon figures this was an electrical room at some point, and moves on. He finds a room with metal bed frames, and another with kicked-over benches, and another with rusted out shelves. With a major exception for several species of spiders, centipedes, and other crawly things, nothing else seems to live there. Worse, there isn’t any evidence of a patched over place where more caves might once have been. 

Toward sunset, Gon accepts that this isn’t the cave he’s looking for. He decides to spend his night in the old bunk room, with a metal frame shoved into the door for safety, and trail rations for dinner. 

Despite the relative safety, his sleep is restless and disturbed. He can’t shake the feeling of eyes on the back of his neck, or the sound of ant-like claws in the hallways.

Somewhere in the distance, Neferpitou screams.

##  ==^*(@)*^==

The next day is more of the same. Gon hoped there might be a lake or creek where he might fish for his dinner, but the only evidence of water he found was in dry beds. Again, that suggested a deeper cave than the ones he’d found so far. And he had found a few. 

After that first, obviously altered cave, he’d stumbled across several smaller openings in both the rising cliffs, and practically underfoot. Most were too small to get into—he lamented his growth once again—even if he held his breath and squeezed, but a few were more accessible to him. Those never went far. They petered out after a few meters, or devolved into impassably thin corridors. One had a bear living in it, and Gon didn’t want to disturb her.

It’s nearing midday, again, when he reaches the second of the caves. By this point he isn’t overly tired or over worked—though two days without decent sleep is beginning to take its toll—he’s merely at rest. His guard has come down, leaving him walking through the trees with far more concern for where he’s putting his feet (out of concern for caves) than for his surroundings. 

That is a mistake.

He hears the inhalation, and the rush of wind behind him, at the last possible second. Gon dives to the side just in time for his attacker to rush past where he’d been, a black baton meeting only air. 

“Eh?!” the man gasps, but Gon’s fist is curled and flying at his face.

The man lurches backward, cheek scraped by Gon’s knuckles. He swings again, and Gon deflects the arm but takes the off-hand punch to the stomach. His own fist pounds into the man’s jaw. The man jerks backward, falling to the ground only to kick at Gon’s ankles. Gon jumps, and the man gets to his feet.

Blow for blow, deflection for deflection they fight until, finally, they each break apart to face one another.

With a short distance between them, Gon can see that there’s a militant look to this man, though there’s no actual insignia on his clothing. He's middle-aged; lithely built and balding with brown-and-green clothing that blends well with the surrounding landscape. A thin bandana is tied around his mouth. 

“Another live one, huh?” the man mutters, and reaches for a small walkie talkie clipped to the obviously armored vest covering his chest. “Central, this is Bravo-Victor-Nine-Oh. Confronting bogey in Sierra-Whiskey-Ten-Twenty. Over.”

The radio squawks a second later. “Copy, BV-90. Requesting backup? Over.”

There’s a brief pause as the man gives Gon a once-over. “Nah. I think I got this. Over.”

“Copy. Over.”

The man drops back into a fighting position as he quirks an eyebrow at Gon. “You realize I could’ve brought a whole squad down on you just then, right? Why didn’t you try to stop me?”

“Seemed rude to interrupt,” says Gon, who’d been trying to figure this guy out while he listened to the radio chatter. There didn’t  _ seem _ to be anything special about it beyond the vague mercenary dressing. “Besides, I didn’t expect to run into anyone this quickly, and I was hoping you might answer a few questions. What are you doing out here?”

“Uh.” The man frowns. “That’s not how this is supposed to go.”

“It’s not?”

“No. You’re trespassing, kid.”

“I am?”

The man’s eyebrow twitches. “Yeah. You are.”

“But I thought this whole area belonged to the N.G.L., which belongs to the Hunter’s Association.”

“Yeah, so what? Do other countries not have private property or something?”

Gon frowns, dropping his fighting stance to rub his chin as he muses. “Huh. That’s a pretty good point, actually. Technically speaking, the area belongs to the Hunter’s Association, but plenty of people do live here. I wouldn’t feel comfortable just barging into someone’s home, no matter who owns the land.”

He followed this with, “Do you  _ live _ here? That didn’t sound like you live here. It sounded like a military thing, which is usually the opposite of living somewhere. At least in my experience.”

The man is trying not to stare at this strange child, and losing the battle tremendously. “That isn’t any of your business!”

Some of Gon’s politeness breaks as he reminds the man, “ _ You _ attacked  _ me _ . And I didn’t see any signs warning me away from the area. I think that makes this my business.”

The man’s shoulders sag. He shakes his head. “Kids these days. Listen, I have to take you in now that I’ve reported this, but if you stand the hell down and come quiet-like we can make this a lot easier than if I have to beat you senseless first.”

Most of the time, Gon wouldn’t just agree to follow some random stranger. (Who does he think he’s kidding? Yes, he would.) Especially not a random stranger who’s  _ probably  _ a bandit. Or, at the very least, probably isn’t supposed to be here. That doesn’t really matter much to Gon, though. Not when he’s just realized what the man said before. 

“Wait. Did you say ‘another’ live one?”

The man closes his eyes briefly for patience. “What?”

“When you called your buddy, the one with all the numbers. You said ‘another live one.’ What did you mean by that?”

“Why?”

“Cause I’m looking for someone, and I thought maybe you ran into them.”

A beat later, the man sighs and says, “You’re a strange one, you know that?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before,” laughs Gon. 

##  ==^*(@)*^==

“So you’re saying they came through here?”

“A guy with white hair tailed by a black-haired girl? Yeah. You could say that,” agrees BV-90, currently holding Gon by the elbow and leading him through the clearing that surrounds the second cave mouth. All around them, the area is a bustle of activity: military-esque personnel loading boxes into a truck, clearing debris, a woman barking orders next to a command station and, in a corner toward the back, a few men digging a collection of graves. It’s easy to see that they’re all pretty scared, fairly pissed off, and fleeing the area. 

Gon tugs lightly at his handcuffs, testing their strength again. He can snap them; in fact, it’s more of an effort  _ not _ to by accident. The handcuffs aren’t the part that worries him, right now; it’s the guns slung over most of these people’s shoulders. He can snap handcuffs. He cannot outrun bullets. 

Ah, well. He’s gotten out of worse scrapes. Besides, none of the people in sight are Chimera. That helps more than it probably should.

“BV-90,” snaps the woman with a clipboard. Like the man at Gon’s back, she’s decked out in military grade gear with a black beret hiding her hair, and a pair of mirrored shades covering her eyes. Her scarlet lips scowl at Gon, then the man. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Bogey turned himself over,” said BV-90 with a shrug. “I brought him back to camp, as per usual. Figured he’s in decent shape. The boss might be able to use him.”

“Turned himself over?” Every word the woman says practically drips with disbelief. “We just had two utterly random children blow this base to bits, and you bring another one directly into camp? In what universe is that a good idea?”

“He said he knows them.”

“How is that better?!” The woman pauses, her eyes grow wide, and then she looks at Gon again. Her voice softens in a way that isn’t at all comforting. “You’re one of them?”

It’s too late to play dumb, Gon figures. So instead, he just says, “Sure, I guess. Mind telling me which way they went? That way, I can get out of your hair.”

Before the woman can respond, BV-90 adds, “He didn’t use any of that magic shit on me. I don’t think he’s in the same league.”

“It isn’t magic,” the woman mutters, taking off her glasses. Her eyes are a bright, unnaturally vibrant green and as they narrow Gon gets the distinct impression that she may be using  _ gyo _ . Her gaze flickers over him from head to toe, then she down the two inches she has on him, to look him directly in the eye. “I feel like I know you from somewhere. What’s your name, kid?”

“Gon Freeces. Nice to meet you!”

She hums, and smiles like a viper. “Freeces, huh? Ah. You’re that one, aren’t you? The kid who helped the Association steal this place.”

“We didn’t  _ steal _ anything. We saved it.” (“ _He’s_ a hunter?!” mutters BV-90.)

“That’s your story, sure,” she says breezily, flapping her clipboard as she circles back around to one of the tables where she’d been working. She sets the clipboard down and braces her hands against a table, turning to watch the men loading a truck. “So tell me, Gon, why did your friends blow up my shit?”

Gon shrugs. “I really wouldn’t know. It doesn’t sound like something they do. Not without a reason, anyway.”

“Are you suggesting we provoked them?”

“I  _ really  _ wouldn’t know,” Gon repeats, trying to stay neutral. No matter how cold a reception he’s getting—or this woman’s strange accusations—so far it’s been a fairly even exchange. He doesn’t see any real reason to antagonize them further. “I haven’t seen them in a few years. Listen, if I can find out what’s going on, will you give me a direction and let me go? I’ll come back. I promise.”

The woman’s laughter is brittle and more than slightly stressed. She chews over her words for several seconds, gaze darting around various points of the clearing; the graves, the trucks, the scorch marks on the ground that—now that he’s looking at them—do seem very reminiscent of lightning marks. Then, apparently surprising no few of the soldiers listening to her, she says, “Alright. Sure.”

“Commander,” gasps one of the men loading the truck. They’ve stopped in their work to stare. “You can’t be serious! After what they did—”

“He wasn’t with them,” the Commander snaps back. “Besides, I’m still in command of this unit. Or are you planning a coup on top of everything else?”

The man shuts his mouth with a click, and the Commander stands up. She nods to BV-90. “Release his cuffs.”

Obediently, the man unlocks the cuffs and magics them back into some unseen pocket. Gon shakes his wrists out, and accepts his pack from BV-90, who had confiscated it for their short walk. “Thanks, ma’am.”

“Don’t mention it,” draws the Commander. “Do you have a compass? A map?”

“No map,” Gon lies easily, but he draws the compass out of it’s pouch. “But this’ll do.”

If the Commander thinks it’s strange, she doesn’t say so. Instead, she lets him orient himself on the compass, then points him…

Toward the border. 

Gon frowns. “That’s headed toward Pata City.”

“It is,” she agrees. 

“Huh. I don’t get it. Why would they—ohhh… Okay, so, which way did they  _ come _ from?”

The Commander lifts a brow at that. She glances at another of the soldiers standing around, who instantly snaps to, “We believe they came from the east, ma’am.”

“The east,” Gon mutters. He puts his compass away as he chews his bottom lip. “There any caves out that way?”

“Why?”

“Just curious.” Gon shrugs. He starts to move away, then pauses and turns back to the Commander. “Thanks for all your help, by the way. What was your name again?”

“You can just call me ‘ma’am.’”

“Oh. Alright. See you, ma'am!” With that, Gon legs it into the brush, heading east and south. Though he’s curious as hell about the group—what they were doing out here, why they thought they could police the area, and, most importantly, why Killua and Alluka would have attacked them—he can’t escape the feeling that he just bypassed a situation which could have ended very badly for him, indeed. There was something about the Commander, something about her eyes, which didn’t sit entirely right with Gon. 

Or was he being paranoid? 

He knew for a fact that there’d been a military operation in the area before the Chimera Ant invasion had even begun. It was possible these people were the remnants of that same old drug cartel just trying to get by. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more sense that made. The woman’s reluctance to answer questions, their insistence that they belonged while insinuating the Hunter’s Association didn’t... 

Besides, if they were posted up in a cave that Kite knew about then they probably  _ weren’t _ the bandits he’d been warned about. Right?

All that still begged the question of why Killua would have attacked them. Again, that didn’t sound like the boy they knew. Killua was a lot of things, but he wasn't a loose canon.

Well, not exactly. If they had attacked Killua or Alluka  _ first _ —like how they’d attacked Gon for ‘trespassing’—then… maybe. 

Gah. There are just too many questions, and not nearly enough answers. But at least, with this, Gon knows that he’s on the right trail. Or, he had been.

He frowns, skidding to a halt as a thought finally crosses his mind. “What’s wrong with me?! I should have asked how long ago they were there!” 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mystery solved, a mystery gained.

Going back is a terrible idea, and yet it's the only idea Gon has. The only with any merit, anyway. He supposes he could continue, cutting away from the mountains and heading east. He has a compass. He wouldn't get lost. Trouble is, there's no trail for him to follow and no way to guarantee he'd find one. "East" covers a large amount of land, and in all likelihood Killua wouldn't have been traveling in a direct line.

No, going back and asking more questions—or, at the very least, poking his nose around until he found a trail to follow—that's the only real option.

He can't quite shake the idea that it's going to end in a fight.

Turning on his heel, he starts back toward the military camp and wonders at himself. 

Once, Gon wouldn't have hesitated to do this if he felt it was necessary. Once, he wouldn't have wanted so badly to get away from that sharp-eyed woman and her armed soldiers. Of course, back then he probably wouldn't have been so suspicious of them, either. Or he would have just said something about it, rather than keeping his mouth shut. 

He's... he hasn't  _ learned _ , exactly. It still bothers him, having these questions tumbling around in his head. It  _ does _ bother him, but not as much as his need to get to Killua. To find out why Killua went silent, and why he'd reacted so badly to Gon worrying over him. He can't do either of those things if he dies in an unnecessary fight beforehand. Just like he wont be able to keep his promise to his Aunt that he'll return. 

The fact remains that Gon has changed. He knows that, deep down. and it worries him. Is he being  _ too _ cautious? Maybe so. 

Still, his pace slows as he nears the camp once again. 

Gon lowers himself into a crouch, going quiet as he automatically slows his breathing and quiets his racing pulse. He isn't certain why he's done this, but it feels right. It feels... something like that time years ago, back during his Hunter's exam when he'd stalked Hisoka on the island. He can't feel bloodlust anymore—he understands, now, that nen sensitivity drives that awareness and Gon no longer possess that ability—but nonetheless something instinctive inside him wants to remain unseen. Whether or not he can accomplish it is another story.

He creeps closer to the camp, narrowly avoiding the same lookout he'd run into the first time. The man is posted several yards away, watching vaguely in the same direction Gon had run, though a few degrees off. 

Gon holds his breath as he passes the man, carefully rolling his feet against the underbrush to keep from making too much noise. He mustn't—

Screams. Shouts. A blast of gun fire. 

Gon pops up at the same time the man yelps and turns around. They look at each other. "You—" the man splutters, and then Gon is taking off, running headlong toward the camp. He has to get there before the scout engages him in another fight. 

He has to get there before anyone else dies.

##  ==^*(@)*^==

The camp is in chaos when Gon breaks through the tree line. Men shout something on the other end of camp, but Gon's attention rivets on a small, black-and-pink blur racing out of the cavemouth toward the three gravediggers. 

All three have their rifles leveled at the unseen threat on the other side of camp. They don't notice the girl. Not until she grabs the first man by the gun, using it as a pivot as she slides forward through the dirt, knocking through the legs of the men further in line. Her momentum drags the first man down behind her, and she lets go, performing a backwards handspring that sends her over the heads of the tangled-up men. Her landing is perfect, driving the face of the first man into the ground with one foot, the other resting on his back. 

"Alluka?"

The girl whips around, big blue eyes wide in surprise. "Gon?!"

She's taller than he remembers; that's the first thing Gon notices. Taller than either he or Killua were at her age, and lanky as a bean stalk. Like before, she's dressed in pink from head to toe. Unlike her younger self, she's exchanged her formal attire for a modern, floral-printed tank, a pair of shorts, and a jacket tied around her waist. 

Her hightops lite up a sparkling pink and purple as she absently kicks face of the man nearest to getting up, then looks down at him. "You need to stay down, please. We'd prefer not to hurt you any more than necessary."

Gon takes a step toward her before he hears the click to his right. A gun safety. He whirls, grabbing the scout's gun and yanking it upward just as the man pulls the trigger. Bullets spray over Alluka's head, causing her to stumble and fall. 

The scout catches Gon's first punch, but misses Gon's knee jerking up into his stomach. When the man instinctively lets go of both Gon's hand and the gun, Gon rips the weapon free, smacks the man across the face with the butt end, then tosses it out into the woods. A short report goes off when it lands, but neither fighter pays it any heed. 

They'd been on fairly even terms when the scout ambushed Gon earlier. This time, the man has no advantages of surprise or preparation. With him already off his game, Gon easily knocks the man once, twice, thrice more on the head and he's out cold. The scout falls, and a short scream cuts through the air.

Whirling, Gon finds Alluka's being held by the hair. Two of the men he'd left her with are on the ground, unconscious or worse, but the last is standing on her back with his hands gripped in her dark locks. Thankfully, the man's gun isn't in easy reach if he wants to keep her down.

"Don't you move," the man snaps at him. "Take one step toward me and—"

All the hair on Gon's head lifts as a static crackle fills the area. He has time to register both Alluka's and the gravedigger's hair standing on end like startled cats before a white-lit blur slams through the open area between them. A sizzle of burnt flesh. A guttural scream. 

The light fades, and Gon blinks rapidly to clear his vision. 

His heart lurches into his throat. 

Killua.

The boy stands over the fallen body of the man who'd been holding his sisters, blue eyes gone blank and dispassionate. For a single, breathless moment he remains that way: still as death itself and just as cold. 

Then the crackling electricity surrounding his body fades away, and his puffy white hair looses some of it's static pointedness. He sighs softly, closing his eyes. 

Gon takes a step forward, then two before Killua's eyes open again, flashing toward him. 

This is the moment Gon had been refusing to think about for days now. No, for months. Years, maybe. 

When they'd parted before the world tree, they'd done so on good terms. Supposedly. But years of emails and the occasional phone call couldn't replicated the feeling of being in Killua's presence. It couldn't replace the way the world had just felt  _ right _ before, when Killua was around. 

All this time, Gon had been afraid that he wouldn't feel that way again. That when he and Killua finally came face to face once more, whatever that feeling was between them would have changed as much as Gon had. As much, it seemed, as Killua had, too. 

He swallows thickly. 

Killua was always taller than him, and that remains true. Even with their newfound growth, he's still got several inches on Gon without counting the hair poofing around his head in a shaggy mess. He's traded his old long-sleeves-and-T-shirt look for a sleeveless top that shows the finely honed muscles of his arms, and a pair of cargo shorts which do the same for his legs. The biggest change, however, is the newfound tan to his skin; one matched by Alluka. They've been in the sun a lot, it seems. 

But the  _ feeling _ between them? It's there, that same warmth. The same  _ rightness _ . The absolute perfection of being in Killua's presence. It's all... it's just the same. Like it had only ever been set aside for a little while, ready to be picked up again when they were both ready. 

"What the fuck are you doing here?"

Reality crashes back into Gon in a heartbeat. Killua's eyes are narrowed, and his hands clench into trembling fists at his side. 

"What the hell, Gon? I told you to leave it alone!"

"And I told  _ you _ I wasn't just gonna let you wander off and die in the middle of some stupid cave," Gon snaps back. All the worry and frustration of the last several weeks comes flaring back up, pushing aside everything else. He stalks toward Killua, closing the distance between them as the other boy bows up and sets his jaw. "And then you go and cut me off?! What the hell, man? I just spent weeks worrying about you two and then you pull that? And you expect me  _ not _ to follow you?"

"There wasn't any reason to be worried! We have this under control, and I told you we'd be gone for a bit. You could have just trusted me and waited—

"Um, guys," interjects Alluka, to no avail.

"I  _ did _ wait! I waited for six weeks. Anybody else would have been on your case after two!" Gon pauses, frowns, and adds: "And I  _ do  _ trust you."

"Obviously you don't, or you wouldn't be here," snaps Killua. "And you wouldn't have brought Bisky into it."

"I didn't  _ want _ to get her involved. I didn't see where I had any choice. She was the last person who saw you two alive."

"You really think we would have died?" Killua's mouth sets into a firm, no-nonsense line. "You honestly think  _ I _ would have died in a stupid cave? After everything we've been through?"

Gon struggles to say 'yes.' He tries to give Killua the same speech he'd given Bisky and Kite and everyone else who'd asked. Caves were dangerous, unpredictable. They killed seasoned explorers on the regular. All of that was true, but it wasn't the real reason he'd come, was it? 

"Yes," he lies, and Killua's eyes narrow further. He always knows when Gon is lying. Always. ...Right?

"KI-LLU-AH!" 

Finally, Alluka's shouting—punctuated with a beat of claps to the exaggerated syllables—earns their attention. They turn, and she points behind herself toward the far end of the meadow. Several people lie there, in various states of unconsciousness. 

Killua swears.

"What?" asks Gon, as the other boy jogs back toward the bodies. He exchanges a look with Alluka, before following her over. 

Killua grabs one of the men up. The guy groans and attempts to struggle, but his movements are weak. "Where did she go? Come on, answer me!" 

The man mutters something incoherent. Killua shakes him, but nothing more is forthcoming. 

Sighing, Killua drops the man and shakes his head in disgust. "And their leader got away. Fantastic."

"What's going on?" 

Killua huffs, throwing Gon a nasty look, then bypasses them once again to lope off into the cave. Alluka catches Gon's arm, preventing him from following. 

"They're bandits," she explains. "Or insurgents? I don't really know the difference, exactly, but they've been causing a lot of trouble around here lately."

"Yeah, I kinda figured that might be the case when I saw them earlier. Is that why you guys came here, though? To deal with some bandits?"

It doesn't seem like something Killua would normally do. Not the Killua he'd known, anyway. Sure, bandits were problematic, but they'd never been the sort to stick their noses into other people's business unless asked by a friend. The last time they'd done anything close to that was... well...

"Not exactly." Alluka bites her lip, following Gon's look toward the cave where Killua disappeared. "It's... family trouble."

At the slump of his shoulders, she pats his arm again and adds: "I'm not brushing you off or anything. I mean it like I said it, you know? He's worried about our family. They don't—they  _ didn't _ know we were out here."

They didn't...

Oh. 

Reality lights up inside Gon's mind like a freshly lit Christmas Tree. Killua hadn't told his family where they were going. One of Killua's elder brothers, Gon knew, was some sort of hacker type. If the family was trying to find Killua and the girls for some reason they would probably be able to monitor Gon's emails for clues even if Killua had taken steps to keep his own from being traced. 

_ Why  _ their finding Killua would be a bad thing is less obvious, but if Gon knows anything about Killua's family... he can see it. Maybe they wanted to bully the girls into returning to the fold the way they'd done Killua himself all those years ago, when Gon and their friends had needed to go rescue him. Or they were wanting Killua to come back again. Or any number of things, really. The Zoldycks were an odd lot. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize..."

"We know." Alluka smiles up at him, and nods her head toward the cave in a 'come on' gesture before she heads toward it herself. Gon follows, unsure what else to do. "We ran into the group when we were crossing the border the other day, and figured we'd do something about it. It's not really why we're out here, but these people were being mean to everyone around here and Killua didn't like it much."

"Then why did you let them go the first time?"

"We don't kill unless we have to," says Killua from the front of the cave. He steps back into the sunlight with a pair of stuffed backpacks over his shoulders, and looks Gon directly in the eyes. "You know that."

"Yeah, but you did kill a few."

Killua shrugs a single shoulder. "Unavoidable. The point is, we gave them a chance to get their shit packed up and leave. That was two days ago. Since they were still here when we got back, and preparing to head deeper into the N.G.L. to boot, well, I warned them what would happen. Not my fault if they didn't listen."

"Head deeper into the..." Gon frowns, looking between the trucks and the cave entrance. The cave that Alluka had come out of... "Wait. Is this a secret entrance?!"

"Now he gets it," Killua drawls with the faintest ghost of a smile playing on his lips. That's good to see after all the shouting. "I figured it's part of the smuggling network that their old king-guy built to keep up the illusion of respectability. There's a hidden tunnel inside, one that goes down under the river and comes up in a warehouse on the other side."

"I thought you said these are the bandits that have been bothering the locals? If they were just coming in..."

"Reinforcements for the assholes already inside." Killua hands a bright pink pack to Alluka, not seeming particularly bothered by the whole exchange. "The warehouse should still be clear. You'll be able to get out no problem."

Gon frowns. "I'm not leaving."

"Yeah, you are." Killua's gaze meets his own again, brows furrowed and lips tight. 

"No, he's not," snaps Alluka. 

"We're already in enough trouble as it is," Killua starts to protest. "We shouldn't have even come back—"

"Where else are we going to go?" Alluka asks. She shakes her head, and looks up at Gon who is surprised to find that her eyes have changed. One of them is still bright, Zoldyck blue. The other is a dark black. 

Before, when he'd seen Nanika assert herself, the girls' eyes had become cavernous and hollow, like black holes in her face. That no longer seems to be the case. The black eye appears normal, excepting in not matching it's twin.

"We agreed to stay for now," the girls continue. "Unless we're certain our position has been compromised. And if it is, then surely it's better to have another person around. You always said you were stronger with Gon—"

"I’m strong enough on my own!" Killua protests, cheeks going curiously pink. "And this isn't his problem."

Gon frowns. "Since when? We're friends, Killua. Your problems  _ are  _ my problems. You know that. Whatever's going on with your family, I can handle it."

At least, he could have. Before. Now...

A tremor of doubt shudders through him, but Gon doesn't let them see. He stands up straight, confident and firm. As unwavering as only he can be. Whatever else happens, whatever his friends are running from, he's not about to let them face it alone.

Killua eyes him, crackling with a tension that's as electric as the other boy's nen. Gon swears he can almost feel it on his skin, tingling like static, which doesn't make any sense at all. He can't feel nen anymore, so what is this? His imagination? Or is Killua's reticence just this strong? 

He swallows hard, willing away the hurt and confusion. What is so wrong between them that Killua doesn't want him here? That Killua doesn't trust him to have his back, anymore? More importantly, can Gon fix it, or is pressing his luck now only making things worse? Does it matter that he's making it worse if Killua's in danger? The last time a friend refused their help they'd forced themselves into the situation anyway. They hadn't wanted Kurapika to face the Spiders alone. They'd told him to his face how stupid he was being for trying to send them away. Killua had agreed, then, that was the right thing to do, so he should ultimately agree to this, too… Right?

But the silence stretches, and stretches, and stretches.

Until, finally, Killua sighs. His shoulders slump, the electricity dying away though the tension remains as he looks away and shoulders his backpack. "You're not gonna back down, are you?"

"Never have before."

"We're not either," the girls chime in, and both boys start. They'd forgotten about the girls entirely, for that moment. Gon notices Killua wince, faintly. If either of them notice, though, they don't say anything about it.

"Fine!" Killua huffs, grumbling something under his breath. 

The girl's grin, blink, and both their eyes are blue again. "Come on, then," Alluka says, "We've got a long hike back to camp before dark falls."

She makes to leave, and Killua begins to follow. At a groan, both boys pause and glance at the bandits they've left littered around the meadow. From the stillness, it's apparent that a few of them—including the scout Gon knocked unconscious—are dead. He wants to feel bad about that, especially as it’d been his intention to stop the fighting, but the man  _ had  _ been preparing to shoot Alluka. That was just how fights went, sometimes.

Killua takes a step toward the ones who are moving, but Gon grabs his arm. 

"They're gonna die slow, Gon," Killua reminds him.

"Yeah, maybe. Or maybe they'll get into that cave and live through the night. They might've got the point this time."

"You really think they'll just leave?"

"There's a chance, so long as they're alive."

Killua's jaw works, and he glances again at the men, but slowly the other boy nods. "Alright. Sure. You've got a point."

Then those blue eyes lower to where Gon is still touching Killua's arm. He yanks his hand back, cheeks heating, as Killua meets his gaze again. There's that tension again, laden with unspoken weight and meaning, and yet still, impossibly, filled with that underlying peace. This is where Gon belongs. Where he's  _ always _ belonged, even when he stopped being able to see it through his grief.

"Are you two coming?"

They each start, then Killua laughs. The sound isn't as bright and clear as it once had been, but when he smiles at Gon the shades of distrust are almost completely gone from his face. He slaps Gon's shoulder, jerks his head toward his sisters, and trots off after them.

Gon ought to feel relieved. Killua's seemingly forgiven him. He found them all in good health. They're letting him tag along. 

But if anything, that look only makes Gon less certain he's doing the right thing, here. And he doesn't have a single clue as to why. 

Frustrated with the situation and himself, he hikes his pack up higher on his back and runs to catch up with them. No matter his misgivings, this is much he's certain of: he's never going to leave Killua's side again. No matter what.


End file.
